


Going Riding

by i_claudia



Category: Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-21
Updated: 2010-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Thayet does, after the pomp and chaos of their state wedding is finally over and the last envoys and fellow monarchs have been politely sent packing, is go for a ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Riding

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ignatia and originally posted on LJ [here](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/60095.html#cutid1). (21 October 2010)

The first thing Thayet does, after the pomp and chaos of their state wedding is finally over and the last envoys and fellow monarchs have been politely sent packing, is go for a ride. At least, that’s what she tells Jon, and he smiles and waves her off from where he and Gary are deep in conversation about the grain stores for the winter, not realizing that “a ride” meant more than a few hours cantering around in the Royal Forest. 

In retrospect, he thinks ruefully, listening to everyone around him shout, he should have expected something like this. Why, he wonders, do all the women he finds himself in love with turn out to be forces of nature instead of ordinary humans?

“Enough,” he says, cutting off a particularly passionate, nasal-voiced courtier mid-shriek. “Thayet has not run away, no matter what some might think,” here he glances at one of the nobles from the Council, who at least has the decency to go a bit red; “she will return unharmed by bandits, and if I hear even a whisper of those rumors continuing I will know who to blame.” He fixes them all with what he hopes is a stern and kingly stare, then spins elegantly on his heel and leaves them to flutter nervously behind him. He makes sure the door to his chamber is shut and locked before breaking down into gales of laughter. 

Thayet is back a week later with Buri at her heels and a scruffy group of young urchins and farmhands trailing behind her, and doesn’t bother to give the time of day to anyone who tries fussing over her.

“You know, I think the entire Council of Nobles would have expired from shock and panicky anguish while you were gone if they weren’t so afraid we’d start something even more radical without them around,” Jon remarks that evening, watching her scribble requests and columns of numbers.

“Mmm,” Thayet replies. “Probably. Erich and Marji don’t know how to do basic sums yet—could you find them something to do while they learn? They’ll have to start training later.”

He comes up behind her to press his lips to the top of her head, resting his hands on her slender shoulders. “Your wish is my command,” he says dryly, and she twists around to look at him.

“Don’t be—” she starts before she catches the grin on his face, and raps his knuckles instead, smiling back. “You really are terrible, aren’t you?”

“I live only to serve you, dear heart,” he tells her, grave, but that only earns him another rap.

“We’re going to change this kingdom,” she reminds him, turning back to her numbers. Her back is straight, her head held proudly high, and he marvels at this beautiful strong woman who has agreed to be his wife, his queen. He can see her vision—their vision—laid out before him: a kingdom free from oppression, a kingdom where equality is written into every law.

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head again in wonder. “I know.”


End file.
